


interim

by stannide



Category: Naruto
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-12-03
Updated: 2014-12-03
Packaged: 2018-02-27 23:08:12
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,408
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2710052
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/stannide/pseuds/stannide
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sasuke lives with Sakura in the weeks after the war.</p>
            </blockquote>





	interim

She couldn’t believe it.  
  
"M-me?"  
  
Shizune laughed. “Who else?”  
  
"You," Sakura blurted out. "I mean, Shizune-senpai, you were the head of the medical division! Not to mention my  _senior_ —”  
  
"I think you’ve more than proven yourself, Sakura," Shizune said. A proud smile adorned her features. "Since Tsunade-sama is swamped with the aftermath of the war, there is no one but you with the skill to run the hospital. On this, Tsunade and myself are agreed."  
  
Sakura lowered her head. “I don’t know what to say.”  
  
"There’s nothing to say." Tonton snorted from her place in Shizune’s arms, prompting laughter from both kunoichi. "Just don’t disappoint us!"  
  
Sakura straightened, raising her head in playful defiance. “As if I ever could.”  
  
And just like that, the pace of Sakura’s life changed in the aftermath of the war.

While she had always been busy as a medic-nin, leadership offered her a new realm of challenges and possibilities. Every day was a new frontier. In the morning, she would review reports from doctors and nurses to assess the Leaf’s post-war recovery. At midday, she would drill experienced and fledgling medic-nin alike on their jutsu, challenging them to improve themselves and the quality of their work. In the evening, she would perform critical procedures on those shinobi who had sustained lasting injuries from the war.   
  
Even when she got home, her work wasn’t over. As Tsunade handled matters of state and succession (Kakashi-sensei, Sakura had heard, was surprising everyone in his dedication to his future role), Sakura took the helm on research for her teammates’ new prosthetics. So dedicated was she to this cause that more than once did she find herself falling asleep on open tomes and scrolls. Sakura was convinced her notes were dense enough to comprise a thesis on the topic—one that fortunately had an optimistic prognosis for her teammates.  
  
She didn’t get to see them as often as she liked, though they both remained at the hospital. The vagaries of the war, compounded with the intensity of their subsequent battle, had done a number on them both.   
  
Any time she could spare, of course, she spent visiting them.  
  
Naruto was a chipper patient. The rapport between the two of them had built steadily over the years. On particularly harrowing days, his company was a breath of fresh air. “Sakura-chan,” he would say as she staggered into his room, “you look terrible!”  
  
"Hey!" she’d yell in turn. "Do I need to remind you which one of us is confined to a hospital bed?"  
  
Playful banter dominated most of her visits to him, as well as updates on how the village was coming along outside of his hospital room’s four walls. Sakura made an effort in particular to keep him abreast of developments of state. Naruto listened keenly whenever she relayed how Tsunade was handling the reconstruction of the village, or how Kakashi was coming along in his training to succeed the Godaime.  
  
"That’s going to be me someday," he often declared.   
  
"Naruto, " she countered, laughing, "you’ll need to get out of here first."  
  
Visits to Sasuke were different. It was simpler before, when she could spend her hours at his bedside. There was no time for slicing apples these days.   
  
"Sakura," he greeted her the first time. She attempted valiantly to pretend this did not thrill her.  
  
"Sasuke-kun." She eased herself into the seat beside him. Sakura relaxed, her professional mask falling away. "How are you feeling?"  
  
"Better than before."  
  
"That’s good news," she said. "You’ll be discharged any day now."  
  
He nodded. Sakura was reminded that, for all of Naruto’s outward vigour, Sasuke was the most restless member of Team Seven. She understood now that this, being confined to a hospital bed, was the worst sort of torture for Sasuke. There was no joy for a hawk in cages.  
  
And so she would do everything in her power to expedite his freedom. “We’re doing the best that we can.”  
  
"I know." His eyes ran the length of her. She wondered what he was trying to assess. "And you?"  
  
"And me, what?"  
  
"How are you feeling?" When her only response was a disbelieving stare, he held her gaze evenly. "Is there a problem?"  
  
"No," she said. "No, not at all. I just…"   
  
The query had caught her off guard. When was the last time Sasuke had been concerned about her? It was an uncharitable thought. But even at this moment, despite his recent apology, Sakura could recall precisely the sting of his dismissal during the war, the strength of his grip when it was wrapped around her neck.  
  
She shook her head. “I’ve been fine. Just really busy. I’m sorry I couldn’t visit until now.”  
  
"You have a lot of patients, I’m certain."  
  
"Recent events considering, I’ve had to take on a lot on my own. Especially because… Well, Tsunade-shishou and Shizune-senpai left the hospital to me, actually."   
  
"I’m not surprised."  
  
Her cheeks were heating up, and she hated it. “Thanks,” she replied.   
  
"Sure."  
  
As the silence carried, Sakura shifted uncomfortably. After a moment’s consideration, she made to stand. “It was good to see you, Sasuke-kun.”  
  
He raised an eyebrow. “Back to work already?”  
  
"Fortunately not. I still have twenty minutes."  
  
"I see."  
  
She didn’t know what to make of the expression on his face. Sakura laughed weakly. “I don’t want to be a bother,” she said. “Or keep you from your rest.”  
  
He shrugged. “I don’t mind.”  
  
"Oh."  
  
But Sakura didn’t move. As though she were caught in suspension, half-poised to stay, half-poised to leave. Sasuke’s gaze flitted to the window. A minute passed before he broke the silence.  
  
"I don’t want to keep you," Sasuke said, "if you would prefer to go."   
  
There it was, unbidden: the urge to reach for him. Her hands fisted in her skirt. Sakura sank back into her seat. “I wouldn’t.”  
  
He said nothing, his eyes not leaving the window. Sakura took the opportunity to study him. There was so much that had changed in him from the boy of years ago. The thought made something twist in the pit of her stomach. She barely knew the man he was today.  
  
"Sasuke-kun."  
  
He turned, his gaze fixing upon her. Like a compass pointing north. Like he could see right through her. She willed herself not to fidget.   
  
"Okaeri," she said.  
  
So briefly she might have imagined it, Sasuke smiled.   
  
.  
  
.  
  
.  
  
"Itadakimasu!"  
  
With Sasuke on one side and Naruto on the other, Sakura could almost pretend she was thirteen again. That neither of them had ever left; that no storms would ever come to darken their limitless skies.   
  
But, underneath the veneer of familiar congeniality, a tense dissonance underscored their every interaction. It seemed too soon for them to be sitting and eating at Ichiraku, when only weeks ago they had fought on the battlefield. The years had changed all three of them. None of them could say how the puzzle pieces fit together anymore.  
  
Sakura dipped her chopsticks into her ramen and let Naruto speak.  
  
"Man, I really needed this!" the blonde managed between generous mouthfuls. "Now that I’m back on my feet, there’s so much I gotta do!"  
  
"Take it easy," Sakura said. "You’re only just recovered."  
  
"Recovered is recovered!" At this, Sasuke rolled his eyes. Ignoring him, Naruto continued, "I bet I could even beat you again, Sasuke!"  
  
"In your dreams."  
  
"Ha! You wanna take this to a training gr—"  
  
"Gentlemen," Sakura interrupted. "Let it be known that I will pummel both of your asses to the ground if you land yourselves in my hospital again."  
  
Sasuke snorted as Naruto laughed nervously. “Eh, sorry, Sakura-chan… I have plans other than sparring, too!”  
  
"Like?" Sasuke said.  
  
"Like training to be Hokage!" Naruto raised a fist in the air, resolution gleaming in his eyes. "I can’t let Kakashi-sensei take all the glory!"  
  
"Kakashi-sensei’s only just starting, Naruto," Sakura pointed out.  
  
"So what?" he countered. "I should learn as early as possible! There’s not much else to do if I can’t do seals, besides." Naruto punctuated the declaration with a loud slurp of ramen. "Anyway, Sakura-chan, Sasuke, how about you two? What’re your plans?"  
  
"More of the same," Sakura said. "Actually, when you think about it…" She eyed Naruto slyly. "Running the hospital makes me closer to Hokage than you right now, doesn’t it?"  
  
Naruto scowled. “Sakura-chan, don’t get any funny ideas.”  
  
"I won’t, I won’t," Sakura said, laughing. "Your turn, Sasuke-kun."  
  
"Yeah, teme, let’s hear your plans!"  
  
Sasuke stirred his ramen with his chopsticks, thoughtful. “I need a place to stay.”  
  
"Eh?!" Naruto said. "What happened to your apartment?"  
  
"Idiot."  
  
"Excuse  _you_ , Sasuke—”  
  
"Naruto," Sakura said. "His lease probably terminated years ago." She paused, considering. "The Uchiha estate is entailed to a male heir, I think, but the council might have repossessed it when Sasuke-kun left as well."  
  
Both shinobi fell silent at her last suggestion. Green eyes danced between them, waiting for some sort of response. After a beat, Naruto coughed, turning away awkwardly. Sakura’s brow furrowed.   
  
"I’m sorry," she said, "am I missing some—"  
  
"In that case!" Naruto interjected suddenly, perhaps with more verve than necessary. "In that case, Sasuke, you should come crash at mine. I’ve got enough room." He reached over Sakura to pat Sasuke forcefully on the back. "It’ll be a real bachelor pad, whaddya think, teme?"  
  
"Whatever."  
  
"I can look out for a new apartment for you, too," Sakura said. "It’ll be tough with all the reconstruction going on, but I’m sure we’ll find something that works."  
  
He nodded.  
  
The suspicions that had surfaced over Naruto and Sasuke’s strange silence had yet to be allayed, but Sakura resolved firmly not to overthink it. There were matters between Naruto and Sasuke that she could never be a part of, even if she tried. They were paired souls, after all, weren’t they? It had nothing to do with her.   
  
Sakura put on a smile. “On another note, did I tell you guys about the ANBU patient I had today? It was the funniest thing…”  
  
.  
  
.  
  
.  
  
Sasuke lasted all of a week at Naruto’s before he pounded at her door. Groggy from a late night shift, Sakura had swung open the door ready to beat the crap out of the unfortunate soul that dared to interrupt her precious sleep.   
  
At the sight of Sasuke, disheveled and deprived of sleep, she gave pause.  
  
"His apartment’s a hovel," he said flatly.  
  
"I know."  
  
"I can’t live there."  
  
She eyed the duffle bag around his shoulders. There could be no mistaking his meaning. “Okay,” Sakura said. “Come in.”  
  
She wasn’t going to make more out of this than necessary. She wasn’t. Stepping back to let him in, she turned on her heel and gestured toward her space. He had never been to her apartment before.   
  
"The living room’s right here," she started, business-like. "There’s a couch, but I could bring out a futon if you’d like that."  
  
"The couch is fine."  
  
"Great. Um, so the kitchen’s over here. Take whatever you want out of the fridge or the pantry, I don’t care. The bathroom and my bedroom are down the hall. There should be an extra key on the hook by the door. And that’s that, I guess! Can I get you anything? Coffee? Breakfast?"  
  
To her embarrassment, she was rambling like an academy girl. Fortunately, Sasuke didn’t seem to mind. Dark eyes surveyed the space with interest. “Your apartment’s nice,” he said.   
  
"Well, I do what I can," she said. It was the second time he’d caught her off guard in the last ten minutes. "To be honest, I’m kind of a stickler for keeping it clean, so if you don’t watch yourself, you’ll be back on the streets."  
  
He smirked. “Sakura, I’m not Naruto.”  
  
"I’m just giving you fair warning!" she said. "You know, I’m surprised you even made it over there for as long as you did." The last time Sakura had been to Naruto’s apartment, it was a maze of used chopsticks and empty ramen cups. She suppressed a shudder.  
  
"Desperate times," Sasuke said.   
  
She grinned at that, the gentle quip putting her more at ease. It was a marvellous thing, she thought, to be able to trade jokes with him like old friends.   
  
"Go back to sleep," he continued, his eyes flitting briefly to her attire, before sliding stubbornly back to her face. "I’ve had breakfast."  
  
It took her a moment to remember what she’d worn to bed. “Ah,” she said, colouring immediately. She had neglected to put a robe over her pyjamas before coming to the door. She looked away, quashing the infantile urge to put her hands over the flimsy black silk. It was just a matching camisole and pair of shorts. No big deal. It was only sleepwear. “You’re, uh, sure you don’t need anything?”  
  
"I’ll be fine."  
  
"All right. Well, don’t be afraid to knock."  
  
"Aa."  
  
Shuffling down the hall on bare feet, Sakura decided she would deal with the turn of events after a little more sleep. At the moment, she was definitely too tired to process the situation at hand.   
  
Or to notice the faint pink that dusted his cheeks as she went.  
  
.  
  
.  
  
.  
  
Living with Sasuke was not like anything she’d imagined it to be when she was thirteen and still kept stars in her eyes. There was none of the glamour or romance. It was, all in all, an unexpectedly peaceful arrangement.   
  
There were, of course, moments in which Sasuke struggled: abrupt silences in which he would hold the back of a chair with more force than necessary, off-kilter moments when his knife would slip too far on the cutting board.   
  
For a life as violent as his had been, peacetime was a strange thing.  
  
Even so, the rhythms of their lives fell gradually into sync.  
  
They both rose with the sun. He cooked breakfast, for even one-handed he was more proficient than she, while she brewed the coffee. The first meal of the day was shared in companionable silence, only occasionally interrupted by inquiries about the other’s plans or well-being. The evenings were much the same. Even when her shifts dragged long, it did not matter the hour she came home. A meal would be ready at the table, hot enough that it could have only just been prepared.   
  
His rationale was evident enough. He was no doubt spurred, either by his aristocratic upbringing or by his desire to redeem himself, to be as dutiful a roommate as possible. His commitment was such that he shared even in the upkeep of her apartment without prompting or complaint.   
  
It wasn’t like, she considered, there was anything else for him to do. Waiting for both his prosthetic and his pardon, Sasuke probably sought to occupy himself with whatever means he could find.   
  
The arrangement was convenient in other ways as well. In such close proximity to him, Sakura was able to keep track of his adjustment to the loss of his limb. She shared with him whatever progress she and Tsunade would make in their research, and he allowed her to guide him through kata that would equip him for upcoming procedures.  
  
She was, in fact, rebinding his arm after a check-up when he suggested to go to a training ground.  
  
Sakura frowned. “What’s up?”  
  
"I’ve never trained with you before."  
  
She was struck by the simplicity of that fact. Tucking in the loose ends of the bandage, she murmured, “You’d better be prepared to lose.”  
  
"Cocky."  
  
"Confident."  
  
"Aa," he said. "So you wouldn’t mind a challenge."  
  
Sakura leaned back, putting an arm on her hip. “What kind of challenge?”  
  
"I’ll tell you when we get there."  
  
"You could tell me now. What’s all the mystery for?"  
  
Sasuke tilted his head forward. “Perhaps…”  
  
She raised her eyebrows, unimpressed. “Perhaps what?”  
  
"Perhaps I’m not sure you can do it."  
  
Her jaw dropped. “ _Well,_  Sasuke-kun,” Sakura huffed, crossing her arms over her chest. (Although she did, of course, take private pleasure in the fact that he was in the mood to tease her.) “This better be a good challenge, so I can wipe the floor with your insufferable ego.”  
  
He rose to his feet. “Come on,” he said. “Let’s go to the field by the water.”  
  
.  
  
.  
  
.  
  
She couldn’t get the smoke out of her lungs. She leaned forward to steady herself. There wasn’t enough oxygen in the world.  
  
"I thought you were going to wipe the floor with my—"  
  
"Shut up!" she hissed between ravenous breaths. "You know I’m not a fire type."  
  
"Moot. I’m not a water type, and I can perform suiton."  
  
"I didn’t say I  _couldn’t_  do it.”  
  
Straightening, Sakura executed the seals and inhaled. Her exhale was a roaring stream of fire. Not large enough to be a fireball, but certainly nothing to sniff at.  
  
Regardless, it didn’t seem to make an impression on Sasuke. “You’re not exerting enough force.”  
  
"Shannaro," she muttered, steeling herself.  She raised her arms once more.   _Snake, ram, mon—_  
  
A strident noise reverberated through the training ground. “That would be the hospital,” Sakura sighed, an arm sliding into her pouch to dig for her beeper. “Damn it, I was so close, too.”  
  
"Not really."  
  
"I  _was_ ,” she insisted, scowling, “Just you wait. As soon as the week’s out, I’ll have the most beautiful Goukakyuu you’ve ever seen.”  
  
He watched as she read the message on her beeper. “Maybe.”   
  
"There’s no maybe about it." Pocketing her beeper, Sakura continued, "Anyway, looks like one of my patients has gone into labour."  
  
When he didn’t respond, she took it as her cue to leave. A final thought, however, stopped her from taking the first step. “Hey, Sasuke-kun,” Sakura said. “Why teach me this jutsu?”  
  
He shrugged. “Consider it my rent.”  
  
"Geez." She laughed, shaking her head. "Only you would think of jutsu as payment."  
  
He scoffed, turning to take his leave. He was a few meters away when, without thinking, Sakura called after his back, “I’ll see you tonight!”  
  
He raised his arm in acknowledgement.   
  
The warmth in her chest accompanied her all the way to hospital. Fire jutsu, Sakura thought, really did a number on you.  
  
.  
  
.  
  
.  
  
She came home from a particularly torturous shift the next day to find him reading on her couch. Sinking into the space beside him, she peered over his shoulder. His hair still damp from a shower, he was reading one of her introductory medical scrolls.   
  
"Burning the midnight oil, Sasuke-kun?"  
  
He grunted. “This is… complex.”  
  
She hummed in agreement. “In medical ninjutsu, you really need to understand the theory,” Sakura explained, reaching into her satchel to procure her own reading material (a treatise on neural oscillation and chakra networks—of course, for his and Naruto’s prostheses). “Healing is not like a battle. You can’t just feel your way through it. You can’t afford to mess up.”  
  
Much as she loved Naruto, of her teammates, it was only Sasuke she could rely upon for an intellectual discussion on jutsu. “On a practical level,” he said, “how difficult is medical ninjutsu to replicate relative to other forms of ninjutsu?”  
  
"For a Sharingan user?" Sakura yawned. "I can’t say. You’d need to have the requisite level of chakra control to begin with, for one. Honestly, it’s hard to discuss medical ninjutsu like offensive ninjutsu. They’re not comparable at all."  
  
"No?"  
  
"The learning curve is totally different." Despite her exhaustion, she found herself lighting up at the opportunity to discuss her craft. "You can’t just get better because you’re a prodigy or because you practice a lot. To become an excellent medic-nin, the most important thing is to expose yourself to as many different kinds of patients and procedures as possible. You’re constantly learning, so time and experience matter so much more than even talent or hard work. That’s why…"  
  
When she didn’t continue, Sasuke raised his eyes from the scroll as though to prompt,  _well?_    
  
Sakura thought about how she measured up next to Sasuke and Naruto. How they had already surpassed their mentors. And how she, comparatively…   
  
She frowned. “It’s nothing. Any reason for the interest?”  
  
He studied her for a moment longer before returning his attentions to the scroll. “Medical ninjutsu is valuable.”  
  
"I could teach you, if you like," she offered, though the thought of Sasuke learning  _her_  craft unsettled her more than she cared to admit. He’d taught her one of his techniques, she reminded herself. “Quid pro quo.”  
  
Sasuke seemed to consider it. “I would first have to understand this scroll, correct?”  
  
"Correct."  
  
"Tch." There was a smirk on his lips. "Then forget it."  
  
She couldn’t keep from smiling. Emboldened by his indirect praise, Sakura slowly leaned toward him, stopping as her head made contact with his shoulder. He didn’t protest. Easing into the position, she let her side fall flush against his. Content, she directed her focus to her own scroll.  
  
Sakura soon lost track of the time they spent reading on her couch. It didn’t matter. It could have minutes or hours or days.  
  
The moment they stopped was a moment too soon.  
  
.  
  
.  
  
.  
  
It was the screams that woke her up.  
  
"Sasuke-kun!" Sakura leapt out of bed immediately, swinging her bedroom door open so forcefully it nearly popped off its hinges. Her fists were already glowing chakra. "Sasuke-kun, are you…"  
  
Eyes closed, limbs thrashing, Sasuke was held captive by the world of dreams and nightmares. Sakura rushed to his side immediately, kneeling by the couch to catch his limbs and hold him still. He struggled in her grip. The screaming did not stop. Sasuke called for his brother, for his mother, for his father…  
  
Sakura tried to hold the pieces of her heart together, sending a wave of soothing chakra through his system. “I’m here,” she said softly. “You’re okay, Sasuke-kun. You’re with me.”  
  
Just as it had years before, the sound of her voice seemed to relax him. As he began to still, his blood-curling screams dying down into heaving sobs, Sakura let go. Gently, she wove her hands into his hair. A stream of chakra continued to pour forth from her fingers.   
  
"That’s it, Sasuke-kun," she whispered, monitoring the movement behind his eyes. The nightmare was passing. "Rest easy for me."  
  
When she was certain he’d eased into a more fitful sleep, she withdrew her hands slowly.   
  
His hand shot for hers like a whip. “Sakura,” he murmured, his voice hoarse from screaming and heavy with sleep. “Sakura, don’t go.”  
  
Her throat tightened. “I’m here,” she said. “I’m not going anywhere, okay? I’ll always be here. You know that.”  
  
His grip on her hand did not waver. Sighing, Sakura moved herself to sit on the floor. Not letting go of his hand, she leaned against the couch and let the shadows fall over her eyes.  
  
When she woke a second time, she was back in her bed. Sakura stirred gradually, listening to the sounds Sasuke was making as he walked around the kitchen. Slowly, she rose and made her bed. Irrationally, she found that she was afraid to walk into the kitchen and see Sasuke in the light. Would he see her love written all over her face? The way her heart still broke for him?  
  
What a frivolous way of thinking, she thought. Sakura shook herself of her musings. She was almost a woman grown, and he nearly a man. Holding herself high, she made her way to the kitchen.  
  
Sasuke was still cooking on the stove. His back was to her as she sat at the table. “Good morning, Sasu—”  
  
"Do you know," he demanded.  
  
"I’m sorry?"  
  
"Do you know the truth?" Voice raised, Sasuke turned to face her. His eyes were harrowingly bloodshot from his battle with sleep the evening prior.   
  
Sakura did not flinch. “You’ll have to be clearer,” she said. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”  
  
"The council, the massacre…" His mismatched eyes held hers.   
  
Her brow furrowed. “If you’ve been hiding something from me, Sasuke-kun, I…”  
  
"No," he said, flicking off the stove. "Not anymore."  
  
Sasuke sat at the table and, after a breath, proceeded to tell her about his brother’s sacrifice.  
  
.  
  
.  
  
.  
  
"Forehead. Fooorehead. Are you listening?"  
  
Sakura nodded vacantly, her eyes fixed on some point in the flower store beyond Ino’s head.   
  
"So you agree? You’ll go on a date with Kiba this Fri—"  
  
” _Excuse me?!_ ”  
  
Ino flicked Sakura’s forehead. “Got you, silly,” she said. “You haven’t been listening to a single word I’ve said.”  
  
Sakura rolled her eyes, waving Ino’s finger away. “That’s not true.”  
  
"Yeah?" Ino leaned her elbow on the counter, an eyebrow raised. "What’s the name of the guy I slept with last night?"  
  
” _You slept with_ –”  
  
"Got you again!"   
  
"Pig, are you kidding me!"  
  
Ino grinned gleefully. “I’m totally messing with you. I slept in my own bed last night, perfectly alone. However, if you’d like to put in a good word for me with that teammate of yours…”  
  
Sakura snorted. “I’m telling you, Sai doesn’t know the first thing about sex. Or dating, for that matter.”  
  
"The ways I could educate that boy…" Ino sighed, flipping her ponytail for drama.   
  
Sakura covered her ears, equally theatrical. “I can’t hear this about Sai, Ino. I really can’t.”  
  
Ino laughed. “Sakura, you prude. Fine, we’ll talk about something else.”  
  
"Thank kami—"  
  
"How’s living with Sasuke-kun?"  
  
Sakura groaned. “Not this again…”  
  
"I can’t imagine what else has you so distracted!" Ino reached over to tuck an errant strand of hair behind Sakura’s ear. "You’ve got the mind of a steel trap usually."  
  
"I believe that’s the kindest thing you’ve said to me all year."  
  
"Don’t get used to it," Ino chimed. "So what’s got you bothered?"  
  
Sakura considered it, but, really, she had no hope of successfully lying to Ino. “It  _is_  Sasuke-kun, but I…” She looked away. “I don’t know if I can talk about it.”  
  
Ino sobered immediately. “He didn’t  _do_  anything to you, did he—”  
  
"No, no!" Sakura raised her hands at once. "Not at all. He’s… he’s just had it rough."  
  
Ino pursed her lips, looking at her for a long moment. In moments like these, Sakura couldn’t help but think her best friend was reading her mind. (A feat Ino could, no doubt, manage with ease should she choose to.)  
  
"But you’re okay," Ino said.  
  
Sakura nodded. “I’m okay.”  
  
"Then we won’t talk about it," Ino concluded, waving her hand as though to lose the topic into the wind. Sakura had to smile at the gesture, at once so flippant and so graceful.  
  
"I’m more curious about you, honestly," Sakura said. "It’s been rough on you, too."  
  
Sakura, Shikamaru, and Chouji had been there for Ino when she finally broke down after the war. To first lose her teacher, and then her father… Sakura watched as Ino twirled a flower in her hands. Her best friend had always been so brave and so strong.  
  
"They’re making me the head of my clan," Ino said at length, her voice unusually soft. "It won’t be official until I turn eighteen, but for all intents and purposes…"  
  
Had there not been the counter between them, Sakura would have held her. “Have you been to tell him yet?”  
  
"I have," Ino said. "I went to the cemetery as soon as I found out." She smiled at the flower in her hands. A cosmos—of course. "I don’t know if I can do it, Sakura. Okaasan tells me not to worry, but I’m not ready replace him like this. Not yet. Not ever."  
  
"You’re not replacing him, Ino," Sakura said gently. "You’re succeeding him. He would be so proud of you."  
  
"He was already proud of me," Ino corrected, not unkindly. Sakura grinned.   
  
It was all it took for the the levity to return.  
  
"Man," Ino moaned. "I have big shoes to fill, don’t I? What a bother."  
  
"You’re starting to sound like Shikamaru."  
  
Ino shot her a horrified glance. “ _Never._ ”  
  
.  
  
.  
  
.  
  
Sasuke wasn’t there when she came back home. Concern bubbled in her chest before she could help it.  _Don’t be silly,_  Sakura told herself.  _Sasuke-kun can handle himself._  
  
Shrugging off her coat, Sakura headed straight for her bedroom. Only to freeze at the doorway.  
  
Left on her bed was a simple bouquet of red and white poppies.   
  
She took it carefully into her hands, plucking the notecard from between the blooms.  
  
 _Sakura,  
  
Don’t wait up. The idiot wanted to go out.  
  
Sasuke_

"Ino," Sakura laughed under her breath.  "You sly dog."

  
.  
  
.  
  
.  
  
After having to take his drunken oaf of a best friend home, Sasuke finally returned to Sakura’s apartment at four o’clock in the morning. The next time they sparred, Sasuke resolved (perhaps a little drunkenly himself), he was going to beat the living shit out of the future Hokage.  
  
He paused just as he was about to collapse onto the couch. Though the sunrise had yet to begin, with the Rinnengan, he could see clearly what had been left for him on the coffeetable. He picked up the red poppy and the loose sheet of paper that lay beneath it, on which had been written:  
  
 _Feel free to take the other side of the bed._  
  
His jaw tightened. His eyes flit from the paper to the door of her room. Surely, she didn’t mean anything by it. He himself had not meant to imply anything other than gratitude with the flowers. It was, in retrospect, an ill-conceived idea. One Sakura’s blonde friend had been all too quick to encourage.   
  
Still, the offer was tempting. He recalled at once the feeling of her fingers in his hair, the gentle reassurance of her hand in his.   
  
 _Damn it,_  Sasuke thought. It wouldn’t do to join her smelling of spirits. He would at least, he decided (gave in), take a shower first.  
  
.  
  
.  
  
.  
  
When the morning light coaxed her eyes open, Sasuke was fast asleep beside her. He’d taken the far side of the bed, such that the demarcation between her space and his was clearly delineated. She had to smile.  
  
"Ever so proper, Sasuke-kun," she murmured, rising out of bed. She tucked the blanket back around his form.  _Let him sleep for as long as he likes._  
  
Sighing, she opened her closet to pull out her shinobi attire.   
  
.  
  
.  
  
.  
  
"I hate to send you out on the field so soon, but there’s no one else who can do this."  
  
"I understand, shishou," Sakura said. "It’s a very delicate procurement."  
  
"You do realise, by the letter of the law, I’m not even allowed to send a chuunin on an S-ranked solo mission."  
  
"Well, shishou, it’s the things we do for our favourites…"  
  
Tsunade barked out a laugh. “Don’t get too confident, Sakura.”  
  
"It’s not like I’m your apprentice or anything."  
  
"We could change that."  
  
Sakura grinned. “Too late.”  
  
Tsunade’s eyes settled on the seal on Sakura’s forehead, mirroring her own. This would be the last mission Tsunade would send her on as the Hokage. “Too late, indeed.”  
  
"So," Sakura said, sobering, "it’ll be a week, ideally, in the outskirts of Sound. Am I understanding correctly?"  
  
"You are. Get in. Retrieve the vials. Give them to Katsuyu as soon as you can, so she can bring them immediately to me. Get out."  
  
They both knew it wouldn’t be that simple.  
  
Tsunade rose from her seat. Politely, Sakura followed suit. “I was serious, Sakura,” Tsunade warned, hazel eyes meeting green. “Don’t get too confident. This village needs you.”  
  
Sakura nodded. “The solution in these vials… It’s what we’ve been looking for, isn’t it?”  
  
"The last compound we need for the Hashirama cell culture, yes."  
  
"How soon afterward will you be able to craft a fully functioning prosthesis?"  
  
"Based on your notes?" Tsunade laid a manicured hand on the oaken Hokage desk, drumming her fingers in thought. "Two days. Maybe less."  
  
Sakura bowed. “Understood.”  
  
.  
  
.  
  
.  
  
"Oh, Sasuke-kun, good morning!"  
  
Padding out of her room, Sasuke could not suppress a frown at the sight that greeted him.   
  
"You’re leaving."  
  
"Mmhmm!" Standing by the dinner table, Sakura was dressed in the deep red of her mission clothes. She rolled up a scroll of senbons before throwing it into her medical pouch. "Duty calls."  
  
He crossed his arms over his chest, leaning against the wall. “With whom?”  
  
"Uh, it’s just me!" She zipped her pouch shut. Propping her leg on one of the chairs, Sakura fastened the pouch around her thigh.   
  
He looked away, biting the inside of his cheek.  
  
"Sasuke-kun, don’t look so down. I’m going to think you’ll miss me or something."  
  
He scoffed. “How long?”  
  
"A week, tops." Straightening, she patted herself down. To ensure, Sasuke surmised, all her weapons, concealed and otherwise, were in place. "It’s a straightforward directive, too. I’m not worried about it."  
  
"Why send you?"  
  
Her pause was deadly. “What are you implying, Sasuke-kun?”  
  
"You’re the village’s head medic-nin," he said. "If it’s such a simple mission, it’s wasteful to deploy you."  
  
"I said ‘straightforward,’" she replied archly. "Not ‘simple’."  
  
"Point taken."  
  
"Good. At any rate, you should take the week to look at all the new apartment listings." She jerked her thumb toward the open newspaper on the coffee table of her living room. "I circled three new ones you should probably visit. They look pretty promising."  
  
Sasuke hadn’t given serious thought to the apartment hunt. There wasn’t any need to. He thought about telling her the truth of his future plans, but decided against it. Not now, when she was leaving. It could wait.   
  
So he said, “Sure.”  
  
"Fantastic." She grinned at him, so brightly that he was certain if he blinked, he would see her on the back of his eyelids. "I’m glad I caught you before I left. Now I don’t have to wake you."  
  
 _I wouldn’t have minded._  
  
"Take care of yourself, okay?" she continued, heading now toward the door. "Help yourself to anything. I’ll see you in a week."  
  
Her hand was on the doorknob, turning—  
  
"Sakura."  
  
She turned to look at him over her shoulder. “Yes?”  
  
"I can walk you to the gate."  
  
"Sasuke-kun," she laughed. "You’re not even properly dressed.  It’s fine."  
  
He grunted, pushing off the wall. “Give me a min—”

"Thank you."

She slipped out the door before he could respond.  
  
.  
  
.  
  
.  
  
"She’s three days overdue."  
  
"Chill out, teme," Naruto said, stretching out on the grass. "I know you haven’t been on one in years, but delays totally happen on missions."  
  
"Three days is excessive for a week-long mission," Sasuke insisted. "That’s nearly fifty percent—"  
  
"Sasuke, shut up. You’re making  _me_  nervous.”  
  
He grunted. “You should be.”  
  
"You know what?" Naruto pushed himself off the ground, scrambling to his feet. Looking down at Sasuke, he stood straight, feet firmly apart, one hand on his hip. "Look, I’m going to promise you like I promised Sakura-chan. If anything happens, I’ll definitely bring her back."  
  
 _Not you._    
  
Sasuke rolled onto his side. “Whatever.”  
  
"Seriously, teme?! I’m giving you the fucking promise of a lifetime here! This is a once in a blue moon kind of gig…"  
  
Sasuke drowned out Naruto’s half-hearted display. He knew the blond was as uncertain as he was. Were anything to happen to Sakura, there was nothing either of them could do. He grasped the situation easily: he was stuck in Konoha, powerless, with no knowledge of how Sakura was faring. Of when she would be home.  
  
The notion made him restless. How the fuck was he meant to content himself with waiting? He felt at once like a herd animal chomping at the bit.  
  
"Naruto," he said, cutting through his best friend’s tirade. "Let’s spar."  
  
.  
  
.  
  
.  
  
"Baa-chan!" Naruto cried, swinging the door open. "Sakura-chan was supposed to be back  _last week_!”  
  
Tsunade groaned as Naruto thundered into her office, Sasuke at his heels. From his seat in front of the Hokage desk, Kakashi offered a wave.  
  
"Kakashi-sensei," Naruto pleaded, honing in on his former mentor immediately. "You’ve got to tell baa-chan to let us get Sakura-chan back!"  
  
"Ah, well, Naruto—"  
  
"Denied," Tsunade boomed.  
  
Sasuke’s lip curled in a sneer.   
  
Naruto walked right up to the Hokage desk, planting a sole palm on its surface. “Could you at least tell us where she is?”  
  
Tsunade shrugged. “Taking care of her mission, I’m sure.”  
  
"Why are you so calm?" Naruto insisted, his voice rising in volume. "What if something happened to her?!"  
  
"I’m confident that she’s fine."  
  
"Baa-chan—"  
  
"Hokage," Sasuke interrupted.   
  
Tsunade raised her eyebrows. “Uchiha.”  
  
"How can you be certain."  
  
Setting her elbows on the desk, Tsunade rested her chin on the back of her clasped fingers. “Are you questioning your Hokage?”  
  
His eyes narrowed, the Rinnengan flashing dangerously.  
  
"I’d advise you to remember, Uchiha," Tsunade continued, "just how precarious your position is right now. And you, Naruto—" She turned the full force of her glare onto her successor’s successor, who, to his credit, did not cower. "—do not forget that only one of us in this room knows precisely what Sakura is capable of."  
  
Even Kakashi had the good grace to turn away.  
  
With that, Tsunade slammed a palm down on the table. “Get out of my sight, both of you.”  
  
Begrudgingly, the pair of shinobi filed out.  
  
"Ah, Tsunade-sama," Kakashi began, his exposed eye leaving the door to settle on his predecessor, "I should apologise for my students."  
  
But Tsunade was laughing into the back of her hand. “Oh, man, that takes me back!” She shook her head. “Just like telling off Jiraiya and Orochimaru again.”  
  
Kakashi smiled under the mask. After a beat, he pressed, “Still, I have to ask. Is Sakura—”  
  
"She’s fine, Kakashi." Tsunade took a sip of her sake. "If something fatal had happened to her, don’t you think Katsuyu would have told me by now?"  
  
.  
  
.  
  
.  
  
In her absence, the nightmares returned in full force.  
  
Sasuke woke up gasping, limbs tangled in her sheets. Her name on his lips, shaky, distorted. Willing his heart to calm, he settled back under the covers. Face pressed against the pillows, he tried to hold on to the vestiges she left behind. The traces of her warmth, her scent.  
  
Both slipped through his fingers like sand, fleeting as the cherry blossoms from which they came.  
  
.  
  
.  
  
.  
  
She staggered through the door at midday, almost a month after she was meant to return.  
  
"Sakura!"

Sasuke rushed to her side immediately, just as he had in the desert dimension. “You’re bleeding.”

"Ah, Sasuke-kun…" Her voice was weak, but she was here. Sasuke struggled to grasp the wonderment of that simple fact—Sakura was alive. "Careful, I’ll bleed on your clothes…"  
  
"I don’t care." Sakura’s own clothes were in tatters. Lacerations covered her arms, but the vast majority of the blood, Sasuke could deduce, was coming from her midsection. His heart was pounding. "I need to get you the hospital."  
  
"I’m fine, Sasuke-kun."  
  
"Sakura, don’t be annoy—"  
  
"My seal. It’s taking care of it. See?" Pushing back on wobbly knees, Sakura raised her arms for his perusal. Upon closer inspection, he could see that the wounds were slowly fading. "I’m regenerating. I just need to…"  
  
She fell forward. He caught her, gently bringing her into his embrace. Her head settled under his chin. He could feel her soft exhalations against the skin of his neck. His hand at the small of her back, Sasuke began to focus. He let his chakra radiate from his fingertips.  
  
She let out a soft noise of contentment, recognising at once that he was using preliminary medical ninjutsu.

"So you haven’t stopped reading my scrolls," she murmured.

It was for the best that she could not see his face, which had turned scarlet as her lips moved over his neck. Balancing her as best as he could, Sasuke pulled her further into the apartment, shutting the door behind them.  
  
"Just keep me up for a little longer. I’ll be good as new in a minute."  
  
His grip tightened. “Aa.”  
  
"So," she said.  "Guess what?"  
  
"What?"  
  
"You didn’t guess, Sasuke-kun."  
  
He rolled his eyes. “Sakura…”  
  
She laughed. “I used your stupid jutsu.”  
  
"Did you?"  
  
"Hell yeah," she sighed. "I wish you could have seen it. The fireball was enormous."  
  
"Show me tomorrow. When you’re better."  
  
"I will." He felt more than he saw the curve of her smile. "It saved my life."  
  
There was a number of things Sasuke wanted to say.  _Good. I hope it always serves you when you need it most. You deserve to wield it. I want you to know what it means to me that this jutsu is now yours as well as mine._  
  
But he said none of these things. He leaned forward to rest his cheek against her hair.  
  
"Sakura."  
  
"Mm?"  
  
"Okaeri."  
  
Her arms, now healed, drew him into an embrace that was equal parts fierce and tender. (She loved him, he knew. She loved him still.)  
  
"Tadaima, Sasuke-kun."  
  
.  
  
.  
  
.  
  
Embarrassed, Sakura wiped her cheeks with the back of her hand.   
  
"Sakura-chan," Naruto chided. Tears were falling from his eyes as well. "You’re such a sap."  
  
On the dais in front of them, Tsunade held the Hokage cloak and headpiece out for Kakashi to wear. As their former teacher donned the symbols of the leader of Konoha, the crowd of ninja and civilians alike erupted in cheers. Naruto and Sakura weren’t the only teary faces among them.  
  
It was a particularly poignant moment for Sakura, to see one mentor take a final bow, and then another finally take centre stage. Caught up in the heat of the moment, she nearly leapt in surprise as someone took hold of her arm.

It was only her roommate.

"Is something the matter, Sasuke-kun?"   
  
He shoved something into her palm. “You’re sniffling too loudly.”  
  
"You’re terrible." She scowled at him, raising what he’d given her to eye level. It was a monarch white handkerchief, the Uchiha emblem embroidered beautifully on its edge. "Sasuke-kun! I can’t cry on this!"  
  
She pressed it against his chest. He gave her a look of disbelief. “Sakura, it’s a fucking handker—”  
  
"It’s beautiful! No, I really couldn’t. Wait, Sasuke-kun, what are you—"  
  
Tilting her chin up gently, he brought the handkerchief to her cheeks. The crowd, along with Naruto, was too engrossed in the festivities to notice as he wiped the tears from her eyes.  
  
"There," Sasuke said, replacing the fabric in her palm. "The damage is done."  
  
She laughed. “Well, thank you. To ease the pain, I’ll wash it before I return it to you.”  
  
"Don’t bother," he grunted.  
  
"What do you mean—"  
  
He raised a finger to her lips. She flushed.  
  
"Look," he said. "Kakashi’s about to speak."  
  
.  
  
.  
  
.  
  
That evening, once they had settled into their respective sides of the bed, Sasuke said:  
  
"I’m leaving."  
  
She’d cried enough tears today.  
  
"I know, Sasuke-kun." She wanted to reach for him. She did not. "I’ve known for a while now."  
  
.  
  
.  
  
.  
  
"Can I help?" she volunteered, hands behind her back.  
  
"I’ve got it," he said. Tossing the last of his belongings into the travelling bag, Sasuke fastened it shut. "Done."  
  
"I, um," Sakura began, "I have something for you, actually."  
  
Sasuke raised his eyebrows. “You couldn’t have said something,” he teased, “ _before_  I finished packing?”  
  
"You won’t need to pack this." Drawing her hands out from behind her back, she handed him a package wrapped in simple red tissue. "Open it."  
  
He complied. As he unwrapped the package, the black cloak spilled from his fingers in a molten waterfall.  
  
"It’s a sturdy material," Sakura explained, not meeting his eyes. "I figured it would be practical."  
  
 _I felt it might keep me with you, somehow,_  she thought,  _wherever in the world you go._  
  
"I didn’t have the time to get the Uchiha symbol sewn onto it," she continued, "but…"  
  
"Will you help me put it on?"  
  
Sakura looked up at him then. As ever, she couldn’t read the look in his eyes.  
  
"Of course."  
  
Taking the cloak, she wound it carefully around his shoulders and buttoned it at his neck. It was too intimate a gesture—embarrassed, her hands left him like frightened butterflies the moment she finished.   
  
Stepping back, Sakura allowed her eyes to roam the length of him. There was no telling how long there was until she saw him next.  
  
"Sasuke-kun, I—"  
  
She was interrupted by a knock at the door.   
  
She sighed. “That must be Kakashi-sensei.” Sakura put a smile on her face. “Come, Sasuke-kun. Let’s get you to the gate.”  
  
He nodded, stepping forward to take his place by her side.  
  
.  
  
.  
  
.

また今度な  
  
 _I’ll see you soon._


End file.
